


Paradise Lost

by belief_in_night (injured_eternity)



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-13
Updated: 2006-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injured_eternity/pseuds/belief_in_night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don Flack finally understood what it felt like to have one’s heart ripped from one’s chest and cut to pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: 2x23 ["Heroes"]

Danny Messer left his apartment roughly two hours after shift had ended and promptly started driving out towards Flack’s Brooklyn apartment. The day had been one hellish nightmare for all of them, from that case with the Marine that had gotten to Mac to the case that was anyone’s nightmare, searching for the answers to a coworker’s murder, but even after they’d made their quiet toasts to the fallen Aiden Burn, there had been something in Flack’s eyes that had frightened Danny more than he’d cared to admit.

They’d all been upset beyond measure—once it was over, Stella hadn’t been able to stop crying; Sheldon looked primarily in shock; Mac looked somewhere between exploding and breaking down; Danny himself had spent the majority of the day biting his cheek fighting back tears. But Flack… The tall homicide detective had closed himself off. His eyes still registered a profound sadness, but Danny knew his friend well enough to see something else that he couldn’t quite describe… but the closest word he knew for it was "desperation." And desperation was not something familiarly related to Don Flack.

Danny had tried to catch him before he left, but by the time he’d searched the majority of headquarters looking for him, he’d been gone. Which was why he found himself driving out to Brooklyn at nine on an evening that, under normal circumstances, would have been spent mourning Aiden. But these weren’t normal circumstances; mourning Aiden didn’t have to be set off in a corner by itself—he could do that in his head anywhere—but he’d be damned if he let himself end up mourning Flack alongside her.

( _Paradise Lost_ )

Sitting curled up sideways on his couch in the dark, Don Flack finally understood what it felt like to have one’s heart ripped from one’s chest and cut to pieces; if his was still intact, he’d be surprised.

 _"It’s Aiden."_ Those two words… those two words had torn him apart as soon as he’d been able to coherently process them, and now he had no idea how in hell he’d managed to get through the rest of the day in one piece. The only thing that registered was the blind, driving need to see her brutal murder avenged, to see that bastard behind bars. And now that Pratt was locked up, Don had no clue what to do with himself. He was breaking and he knew it, but even that knowledge was so foreign to him that he had no idea how to handle it, how to fix it.

Slowly, almost of its own accord, his hand made its way into his pocket and pulled out the box he’d been carrying. He ran a finger across the velvet surface and flipped it open. Even in the dark, the diamond inside glinted fiercely, as though in a manifestation of his anger at the unfairness of the situation.

He and Aiden had been officially together since about six months before she’d been fired for tampering with evidence. And since then, regardless of her sudden change of occupation, they’d grown steadily closer. They’d planned to meet for dinner this night… And at someplace nice, for that matter, instead of the casual places they usually went to if and when they went out at all. He’d been trying to find the right moment to ask her to be his; now he’d never have that chance, and that knowledge burned him more painfully than anything.

When Pratt had killed her, he’d taken something from Flack, too, and as he stared at the radiance of the jewel he held, he had to wonder if he’d ever get it back. They’d made a surprisingly compatible pair, and she’d been able to get through to him in a way that few others could. They’d willingly told each other everything, and they’d been the other’s support whenever things started going wrong.

With Aiden’s death, Flack’s support had been cruelly ripped out from under him. And now he found himself wondering why on earth she had been taken away when he had been left behind to suffer.

( _Paradise Lost_ )

Danny pulled up in front of the apartment building and almost dove out of his car, making his way through the doors and up to Flack’s floor in what had to be record time. He fumbled with his keys, searching for Flack’s in the hallway lighting—he, Flack, and Aiden had traded keys years ago—and finally managed to get it in the lock and open the door.

From his place on the couch, Flack heard the lock turning, but he paid it no attention; there were only two other people with his apartment key, now brutally reduced to one, and he didn’t have any energy to object to Danny even it he’d wanted to. And in all honesty, his mind wasn’t functional enough to know whether or not company was welcome, but then again, Danny was _Danny_ , not company.

“Don?”

Danny only called the detective that when things were really bad, and as far as he was concerned, walking in to his friend’s apartment to find him sitting on the couch in the dark like a frozen statue, staring at something that looked suspiciously like an engagement ring… well, that constituted "really bad" in a heartbeat.

“Don… How’re ya holdin’ up?” he asked quietly, throwing his friend’s usual question back at him as he came up next to him.

Slowly, painfully, Flack’s gaze turned to his friend. “Hey, Danny,” he answered, his voice barely audible.

Danny’s gaze made its way down to the box in his friend’s hand, and his breath caught in his throat—if that was for whom he thought it was… “Don, I—“

He cut himself off as he saw the tear slip down his friend’s cheek. In all the years of knowing him, he had _never_ seen Don Flack cry. He was the support for everyone else he cared about, but when it came to things hurting him, he shut off. As time had passed, both Danny and Aiden had made their way past that, at least enough that it had become the unspoken rule that they’d always go to each other when something went wrong, be it a particularly bad case or otherwise, but still.

Fighting back his own tears, Danny reached out and tried to take the box from his friend to at least put it on the coffee table, but he was stunned at how easily Flack let go.

“Don?” he asked again, beginning to feel strangely like a broken record.

“It was supposed to be tonight,” came the sudden whisper, and Danny’s heart broke. “I was gonna ask ‘er tonight, and then… then that bastard…”

The tears were falling faster now, and Flack didn’t have the energy to stop them; he hated himself for it, but his heart gave up—if she wasn’t good enough reason to cry, what was? Awkwardly, hesitantly, Danny came closer and touched his friend’s shoulder, and when he didn’t pull away or strike out, he reached out and pulled Flack into a hug. Maybe neither of them were big on physical comfort, but they both needed something to hold onto, and at this point, all they had was each other.

Flack tensed at first, but his heart overrode his instincts and he grabbed Danny so hard that the smaller man was almost having trouble breathing. They were both crying now, mourning the woman who had been their friend, who had had her dreams brutally torn out of her reach, whom they would never be able to see again until time took them both away.

“I’m so, so sorry, Don,” Danny whispered as his friend cried into his shoulder. There was so much more that he could say, but suddenly words seemed inadequate and useless.

“Me, too,” came his answer, and they both let the tears go, Danny for his lost partner, and Don for his paradise lost.

  
 _Finis._

 _Feedback is always appreciated._


End file.
